A Chance Meeting
by Lordess lawn gnome
Summary: Two elves meet in the Silvanesti forest- one a freshly appointed mage, the other a rogue and fugitive. In an instant, a legend is born. Prequel to 'Treasure Hunting.'
1. Prelude

It's me again. This is my second submission!! Wahoo!!  
  
Disclaimer: This is still a Marauders story, so it's all mine (other than the world and the concepts and the names and... oh hell, I'll start again!) I own Ayon and Kalesh, happy?  
  
Authors Note: Thanks to Dalamar Nightson, Ren, Darkbane13, Koth, and Darkbane13 again. You all rock!! And yes, they are all dead, this is a sort of prelude that I thought up when I read some of the questions Dalamar Nightson had for me.  
  
"And as for me, as for me... I made my mind up back in Chelsea. When I die, I'm goin' like Elsie!" –Liza Minelli  
  
The elf stumbled.  
Alone and confused, the young elf looked around from her newest vantage point. Dammit, she said to herself, I'm never going to get back before dark at this pace. Where ever 'there' is, she added with a loud giggle.  
She rose again and started off, in what she thought was the right direction. Why she was walking alone in the deepest part of the Silvanesti woods she wasn't sure, though she thought it was likely related to the angry dwarves that ran circles in the head.  
She staggered again, this time hitting her head on a large rock. Elven grace my ass, she thought as she sank into blackness.  
  
She awoke to the smell of cooking meat.  
"You're awake then, mistress mage?" a voice said from beyond her range of sight.  
She sat up painfully fast at that last remark. "What did you say?" she demanded to the old elf next to the fire pit.  
"I only asked if you'd woken yet, you took a nasty spill."  
"Yes. I did, didn't I?" the elf maid said in a cautious voice, fully grateful she didn't have to explain the true meaning of her remark. Of course she was a mage, she decided, looking down at her tattered white robes. She'd been caught up in a rather enthusiastic bout of celebrating the night before. Or was it two nights ago?  
"Are you hungry, miss...?" the older elf offered bread and some sort of roast bird in exchange for her name.  
"Ayon," she said automatically. "Ayon of the Silvanesti."  
"You're quite a ways from Silvanost, young lady. Almost to the borders."  
Between mouthfuls of bread, she managed to make a noncommittal grunt.  
  
"It's dangerous out here; a young lady like you shouldn't be here alone. The air is thick with rumors of war."  
"I can take care of myself," Ayon said. "Now, I thank you for the aid and the food, but I must be off. I have just passed the test and my family eagerly awaits my return as a true mage. If I may have your name, I'll see to it that your house will be properly rewarded for your actions."  
So eager and impatient, the old elf thought. Might as well be a human...  
"Sir?" Ayon's question snapped the old elf out of his reverie.  
"Kalesh. Kalesh is my name. But you'll find few in Silvanost who remember me, and even fewer who admit to it. I live here, in the forest."  
"Hmm... a hermit. Well, I'm sure that if you-"  
"I don't need your money, madam. It's reward enough to talk to another person."  
"If you insist, sir Kalesh." Ayon said, bowing. She turned and walked away, fully conscious of the old elf's eyes on her back.  
"Lady, wait." Kalesh shouted as she left the clearing.  
"Yes," she asked, turning on her heel to regard the man.  
"Your spell book. You must have dropped it when you fell," he offered her the white-bound book.  
"Thank you again, sir." Ayon took the proffered volume. "Again, I am in you debt." She bowed again.  
"A thousand welcomes," Kalesh said with a sly grin.  
Ayon rapidly decided she rather disliked that grin, and began backing away. With one final courtesy bow, she turned tail and ran from the hermit elf. 


	2. Life's a Gas

Author's note: A thousand thanks to my lone reviewer- Darkbane13.... Yeah.... But I won't rant... perhaps if posted my stories in the right category I'd get more hits. But who am I to complain... Wait! I'm a... well... I take that back. I got nothing. Oh, and sorry about the chapter length. I write essays, not stories. Actually, if anyone wants this, I'll give them the plot free of charge- I've even got others they can have. I'm really sick of writing it...

Disclaimer: Janet Reno- eat your heart out- John Cleese sooooo has better legs than you. Oh, and I don't own Dragonlance. Now get me the machine that goes BING!

Chapter 2

Finally recovered from her historic bout of post-Test celebrating, Ayon stopped at a local tailor to replace her white robes. Somehow, she didn't believe her parents would believe all of the stains and rents were the product of her travels- which they weren't.

Freshly clad in new robes, Ayon marched up the walk and steeled herself for the meeting with her parents. She'd been away from doting, cautious family for nearly a year, so feared the worst from her affectionate mauling-prone mother, but instead of the expected rush of sappiness, a strait-faced servant answered her knocking.

"Lady Ayon," he clipped. "Your Lady mother awaits you in the west drawing room."

Ayon only nodded to taciturn elf, watching him execute a painfully perfect bow and turning from the door at the same instant. We should get this guy into the army, she thought, he's got more grace in him than most of my ladies-in-waiting. Too bad that rod's so far up his arse, she amended.

"My lady, where are you going? Your other wished to see you the moment you arrived."

Ayon blushed slightly, realizing she'd been heading towards her basement laboratory and not the western wing of the house.

"If she really wished to see me that promptly, she'd have met me at the door," she told the servant shortly, promising silently to reduce his pay- graceful or not. That'd teach him to embarrass members of the noble caste. With another slightly more derisive sniffle, she turned on her heel and walked from the foyer to the door of the drawing room. Instead of opening it herself, she stood imperiously and waited for the man to get the hint. Now blushing and fuming furiously, the servant opened to door, catching it on his foot and nearly tripping himself in transit. Suddenly shocked at her prima onna carriage, Ayon smiled at the devastated man and vowed silently to increase his pay, or at least send a regular feast home for his family.

"Ayon, child, come in here and let me look at you," a tired and only vaguely familiar voice said from the room. Bracing herself, Ayon stepped in to the darken room, and was nearly bowled over by her mother's entrapping hug.

"I'm so sorry child, I wish it weren't so," the normally composed she-elf sobbed.

"Mother! What is it? Where's father?"

This, apparently, was exactly the wrong this to say. A fresh wave of pitiful sobs overtook the older woman.

"Oh, my dear. He's left us. He's all gone!"

Ayon started at this. While infidelity was occasional in the lower ranks, it was totally unheard of in the upper echelons of the elvish race.

"Why? With who?" Ayon, furious at the slight done to her family, grabbed her distraught mother by the shoulders and nearly shook away what little sense she had left.

"What are you talking about? He didn't leave with anyone! Your father died cold and alone from an assassin's blade!"

Shocked from her mother's bold declaration, Ayon didn't even try to catch the suddenly unconscious woman. "Dead?" she asked the unswerving dark.


End file.
